I can't decide if I am more proud of trying for about 3 hours to get big bugger out of Simon's nose (and not succeeding) or of changing Sadie's diaper right in the middle of the Shedd Acquarium's atrium. It's really a toss up. If pressed to say which was more satisfying, I would have to say Simon's nose, because buggers smell better than diapers.
And, I work really hard trying to be sure that Simon gets enough to eat during the day so that he will sleep through the night. Some people collect stamps or build iPhone apps; I shovel food in my son's mouth. I am sure that won't have any negative consequences down the road. Anyway, he's cagey, that Simon. He likes to turn his head away when the spoon is coming at him (just like he turns his head away when I try to get that blasted bugger). He looks like he is too solid to move quickly, but don't be fooled; he's practically a jaguar when it comes to swerving his head to avoid my well-meaning hands. I decided that the job that would have best prepared me for mealtime with Simon would be a trainer for a Tour de France rider. You know those guys that drive up in their ridiculous, tiny European cars and give the riders meals through a straw or drugs or power bars? Well, they simultaneously have to steer a car and give a world-class rider his calories while navigating a hairpin turn. That kind of training would have been beneficial for me as Simon's mom. The funny thing is that when I do manage to get a little avocado or banana on his lips, he laps it right up and seems to enjoy it. But, milliseconds later when I try to give him more, we start all over again with the head swerve. Maybe he's grumpy because he's giving himself whiplash.
And, you can see from pictures, this is not a kid who misses many meals. We eventually get it in there, but it takes about 55 minutes to get a good-sized infant meal into his belly.